


Blake the Anon's Misc. Story Stories, Poems, and Stuff

by anAnonWrites



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:20:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 3,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26085589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anAnonWrites/pseuds/anAnonWrites
Summary: Most of this was written a long time ago from my old Tumblr. Now, I'm archiving them here, and maybe I'll be adding more. Some are sad and vent-y, some are mildly positive. Read if you want to.





	1. Let Go

_“Hey.”_

_“Hey yourself.”_

_We smile at each other. They gesture at me to sit on the old park bench. And so I sit._

**_A little story about hope and depression, under the cut._ **

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself.”

We smile at each other. They gesture at me to sit on the old park bench. And so I sit.

...

...

...

“Are we going to talk?” they ask me.

I look at them blankly. “I thought this would be fine.” Clearly it isn’t. Their hands are clenched and white, and their mouth is set in a tight, grim line. Their eyes are clouded with... something. Was it worry? Sadness? Love?

I wouldn't know what that is. Sorry. But I don’t know. Well, I don’t remember.

They sigh and say, “You know, I can’t know what you know. Or what you _feel_ , I mean. You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

_I know what you mean._

We stare out at the river. Autumn leaves falling endlessly, drifting past us. I want this moment to last, just the two of us. Then again, I want it to end. Here. Never again. I never want to talk to them again. I’ll only hurt myself. I’ll only say the wrong thing and screw up. I’ll never get the relationship we have now back.

“I could talk about my day, but you seem like you are thinking about something that you want to talk about,” they say. “I want to know what you are feeling, so that maybe..”

“We can talk, sure.” I shrug it off. No one can really understand my circumstances. It’s just like that. Always. I hate venting. I hate sharing my problems with others. I hate screwing up. I hate being alone. I hate being with people. I hate scaring myself into these stupid circumstances. I being so confused and torn and upset and _**WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON WITH MY LIFE.**_

I burst out into tears. They reach out to comfort me, and to my surprise and frustration, they start crying too. We cry together, my head resting on their shoulder, and their arms wrapped around me in a tight embrace.

“I-I don’t l-like this,” they sob. “I-I don’t like seeing you upset without knowing why.”

“Well, I hate seeing you upset. I hate- I hate making you upset. I hate myself for that and a million other things. I don’t want anyone hurt. I don’t-I don’t want anyone to cry. It’s all my fault. I-It’s all-”

We sob for what seems like an eternity, until they chuckle and say, “I can’t cry anymore.” I silently nod my head yes, smiling just a tiny bit.

“Let it go.”

“W-what?”

“L-let it go. I want to see it.”

I inhale and try to let everything roll off of my shoulders. The blue sky is suddenly dark. I can hear it, and _they_ can hear it too. “I want to stop now, please,” I say, letting the cold emptiness sink into my spine.

“There's more in you. I can tell. Let out some more.” It crescendos into a towering wave of dark, churning and screaming, until it disappears into the sky.

“I like keeping it to myself.”

“Your hands still have it.” I look down, and they’re right; traces of darkness are left on my hands. “You can let go, but you will still have some left inside of you. This feeling never really leaves.”

“So what? I give up?”

They look me in the eyes knowingly and say, “You work with it.”

“You work with it and you live with it until it's normal. It’s never going to or be normal, but you gotta work until it feels like it. You’re going to have relapses; you’re going to have to go back; you’re going to break again and again and again.”

“Aren’t you a ray of sunshine.”

“My point is that you’re going to have all of these things well up again, but you just have to let go.”

Exhale

Breathe

It’s okay now

You’re going to be okay

Just breathe

Exhale


	2. We All Are In the Same Boat

Sometimes, I feel like I’m not good enough, that no matter the effort and time I spend in something I love, it’ll never reach the standard I want to reach. _I_ will never reach the standard I want to reach.

I take a minute to look around myself. _Wait, a minute._ That’s the person I admire so much! And another talented person over there!

We rock and sway, huddled together, yet apart, on a large boat, drifting aimlessly in the sea. _Pop!_ I’ve broken the bubble that kept me separated from the truth. I’ll admit it: I’m scared. But so is everyone else. There are so many people in this boat.

Look at this! There is this huge sea of creativity and love surrounding us! We think that we need someone to push us off the gangplank. We think we need someone to help us dive in to reach our potential. But we don’t! It may help us, sure, but don’t wait for someone to show up!

_**You can do this.** _

There are sharks in these waters: Haters, Terrifying Critics, Anxiety, our own Doubt and Fear. We have the tools to fight them. Let us take the dive together into this sea of creativity, and fight together. I won’t let you drown. We’ll stay afloat and show the world our true strength. Our true power. Hope. Pride. Passion. Creativity. Love. Because only _you_ bring what you can do _._


	3. Legacy

My thought reaches my hand

My hand reaches my pencil

My pencil reaches my paper

My paper reaches my thought

Nod your head yes

Shake your head no

It’s a matter of years

Before we have to go

And become the stars

Who we already are

—

You are special. Don’t forget that. All that you create, be it stories or drawings, mean something to someone. It should matter to you. Your legacy is defined from the things you do. Even if you look back and think, “This is the most hideous thing I’ve ever made”, use it to grow. You can learn from your mistakes and past actions.


	4. Life Isn't Fair

You may think that things have to go your way.

You may think that the world revolves around you and you’re adventures.

You may think that if something tragic falls upon you, the world is to blame.

But it isn’t.

No one is to blame.

Life doesn’t guarantee us happiness.

Life doesn’t guarantee us peace.

Life guarantees us death.

Continue moving.

Continue going forward.

You can’t change Life’s choices.

You can’t change Life’s mind.

Because Life doesn’t care.

Life doesn’t care if you’re sad.

Life doesn’t care about humanity’s sense of right and wrong.

It knows what’s in store for you.

And plans to see it through.

So let it happen.

Know that Life isn’t fair to all of us

And not just you.


	5. Cry

Why do I cry?

I’ll tell you why I cry

I cry for Sorrows and Woes

Who nobody knows

I cry for Passion and Anger

So often we are no longer strangers

I cry for Loneliness and Isolation

For sometimes they are my only salvation

I cry for Tension and Anxiety

Who are a part of me

I cry for Justice and Freedom

And for the good things to please, **please** , come home

Save me from this hell that Life has created and set in stone

But the good things never respond

So it is only me and these tears of mine

Waiting for the rest of mankind

To hear and find me


	6. Staircase

I see what I want to achieve, but my expectations keep flying higher and higher. I can never catch up. I keep climbing and climbing, but I can never reach them. They always stay out of my reach….

Those around me say I’m talented. Those around me think I’m skilled, but I know I’m not. I’m just an imposter. I’m a fraud. Why do people think I’m so amazing when I’m really not?

I’ve fallen now. Down and down these infinite steps and onto the road.

I’m rolling now. Down and down this endless road and into the hell I’ve made for myself.

Oh, look. My friends are on a road nearby.

Oh, look. There’s that person I admire, also on their own road.

I barely remember my own voice, but I manage to say:

“Hey.”

“…”

“Hi everyone.”

We keep rolling on.

* * *

It’s silent as we keep on tumbling down. It’s completely dark now. All light has gone out.

I break the silence again:

“You are special. You are amazing. This is what I see in you. _Light._ We may not be able to find it again, though, if we don’t accept ourselves. You have a future, you know. And though you may not be able to fulfill your own expectations, you must remember: you have gone above and beyond for us.”

“…”

“…”

“What about you?”

I’m confused. “Um, what did you say?”

My friend says quietly, “Do you care for yourself and your work as well?”

It takes me a minute to think this over. Suddenly, I realize the way to escape.

“I don’t. I don’t care for myself as much as I should. But I can’t forget. I can’t forget that I matter.” I chuckle at the thought of it. “I have to remember. We will get somewhere. I understand. _I understand._ You’ve done all this good for me. I will be there for you. Whether you realize it or not.”

I feel everyone’s smiles, and for once, I could return one.

* * *

It takes some time, but I finally feel a lightness in my heart. It floats me up, up, up, until I’m finally back on my staircase.

Oh, look. There go my expectations.

It may be a cycle. I may fall down again, but I can’t my friends down. I have to keep climbing. I have to tale care of myself and travel at my own pace. Until I’ve made it. Until we are satisfied.


	7. If You Just Let It Go

If you just let it go

You’ll be fine

There’ll be no one left to know

In this world of mine

It’ll be sad

But really

Is it that quite bad?

If you just let it go

You’ll be able to think

Of all the things you never show

To the people who’ve pulled you from the brink

I’ll cry

Alone in the dark

And I’ll never know why

If you just let it go

All ties will be cut

Those who’ve kept you in the low

In their faces, the door will be shut

I’m fine

Really.

In this

Quiet

Empty

Cold

Dark

World of Mine


	8. for those are the lies this world has given me

It’s a quiet world

From happiness, we’ve been hurled

Into this tragic truth

The world is here

But we are nowhere near

What is truly the truth

We have lied

So many times

And for what?

We have cried

So many times

And for what?

If true joy is what we want

Then it is something we can never get

It takes time for the truth to be seen

But I will keep lying… and yet

I want to smile

I want to be free

I want, for once in my damn life, to be happy!

I can smile

I can laugh and be free

But those things no longer make me happy

For those are the lies this world has given me


	9. Sing Me A Song...

Sing me a song

Where we can laugh all night long

And those drowned in the blue

Will be able to see you

And we all can smile

Forgetting it will only last a short while

Sing me a song

Where I’ll forget all I’ve done wrong

And let go of the past

And lift up my mast

To sail off with you

Into the blue

Sing me a song

Though it won’t last long

And I’ll look into your eyes

Hold your hand in mine

And say three words, shining in a million hues

“I love you”


	10. Anxiety

I don’t like scaring myself

And yet, my fear knows what’s best

This anxiety rolls over me again

And I can already tell I won’t rest

Until the fear is gone

And I’ve done what is right

But I can’t bring myself to do it

Because it then might-


	11. First Love

_It pains me to know that some things that I love are so original that I can never find something quite like it._

_I love it._

_But if such a thing quite like what my first love exists in this world,_

_I won’t take that chance to feel that newfound love again with the new one._

_Because what I had with my first is all that I really needed._


	12. Snip

I walk into a salon, sit down for 30 or so minutes, then get back up to get my hair cut.

Only this time, it isn’t a trim. I’m going to donate most of my hair.

It’s weird.

You hear people say, “Oh, when you cut your hair short, it’s like letting go of the past.” I don’t really feel that.

I mean, as I sit back in the salon chair, getting my hair washed and ready to go, I try to imagine what I’ll look like and who this hair is going to. I don’t think about the past.

I just want to avoid it.

Get rid of it.

I’m a huge hypocrite, aren’t I?

As I get up, I’m vaguely aware that my hair, wrapped up over my head, is still dripping on the floor. I sit down, get wrapped in a sheet, then the young man parts may hair. Then, the scissors come out.

_Snip, snip, snip,_ **_snap._ **

I feel the lack of hair at the nape of my neck. My mom and sister are watching. My mom joking sobs at the loss of my hair, and my sister is making anime references. I’m embarrassed.

The stylist takes my hair and hands the 12, 14 inches or so of hair to my mom. “Bend you head down a little bit.”

_Snip, snip, snip,_ **_snap._ **

There goes some more. Another stylist takes my sister away to do her hair. She’s only getting a trim.

_Snip, snip, snip,_ **_snap._ **

At this point, about half of my hair is gone. But, I’m smiling.

_Snip, snip, snip,_ **_snap._ **

I guess I was letting go of the past.

_Snip, snip, snip,_ **_snap._ **

Never mind.

_Snip, snip, snip,_ **_snap._ **

With my hair now in a bob, the stylist grabs a hair dryer, and waves it around like a magic wand. He sets it down and begins trimming my hair just a bit. 

I can only think of 5 year old me. My hair was short. I had bangs, glasses, and a new chance to make myself. I was starting a new school.

There was a girl I became friends with, and we were still friends to that day. I had seen her just hours before at class. What would she think? What would _all_ of my friends think?

Of change?

Of a new face?

Of my flaws and imperfections?

Of all that I could hide under my longer hair?

What would they think?

I still smiled.

The _‘I’m fine’_ smile.

I shook my head.

It didn’t feel like a weight was taken off my shoulders.

It feels like nothing.

I sit on a couch, waiting for my sister to be done with her trim. I gazed out the window and began to think.

My hair was going somewhere. Someone needed it. Their past was worse than mine. They ~~deserved~~ needed it more than me. They ~~would~~ wouldn’t need to hide with my hair.

It’s not _my_ hair anymore. I can’t say that. It’s _their_ hair.

New memories and a past and a story was in that hair.

And now it was someone else’s turn to create memories.

I hope that you are happier,

I hope that you are comforted.

I hope that you make it another day.

I hope you listen.

I hope you stay safe.

Please.

Hope is all we have.


	13. The Girl with The Starry Hands

She’s always drawing on her hands. She’s the _Spring_. She keeps blue, black, and red pens in her purse, and only uses them to draw stars and swirls. She’ll jot down notes to herself on her wrists and then go back to daydreaming.

That’s Amaya Gwendolyn for you.

I’m always humming a song. I’m the _Winter’s Wind_. Well, actually, I’m more of a violinist, but I love music. I’ll feel a song in the air as I walk everywhere and anywhere.

I’m Teresa de Musis.

Art is incredible. It can be anything and everything. I smile everytime I see or hear anything beautiful. I can look at the sky and see beauty everywhere.

I don’t know about Amaya, though. She loves space. She’s always changing. If she ever played an instrument, she would probably be a musician who never followed the sheet music. She’d play as she pleased and complain about how the written music is boring and too linear.

“Be crazy. Go wild. Be free.”

I don’t know how she does it.


	14. Tyler the Dinosaur

This is Tyler the dinosaur. He is made entirely from wire. But he wasn’t always a dinosaur.

Long ago (more like 3 weeks ago), he was a _she_ , a high heeled shoe named Tiara to be specific. She was happy the way she was; she had plans for who she wanted to be. But she wasn’t completely satisfied with herself. Tiara wanted to be a beautiful high heeled shoe, but she never felt _right_. She wasn’t really a high heeled shoe, _was she?_ She sighed but accepted her fate. Tiara was just a shoe; she couldn’t know what she wanted and it was already out of her control. The Artist would decide her fate.

Until one day, a mysterious figure loomed over Tiara and dropped a large binder on her. _**Bam!**_

Tiara wasn't pretty! She was squished! Her wire was bent and twisted the wrong way! Tiara sobbed and sobbed. _Things weren’t going the way they were supposed to! Where did all of Tiara’s potential go?_

_Maybe things would be better off this way_ , she thought sadly. _I was never going to be who I wanted to be anyways._

Tiara waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Finally, the Artist returned. She walked in with binders of sketches and notes. As soon as she saw Tiara though, she dropped everything. The Artist muttered under her breath indiscernibly as she took Tiara up in her hands and turned her over, this way and that. “The third time...Stupid...Can’t they see my...Maybe...”

The Artist unflattened Tiara. She was slightly wider than before, and she couldn’t stand up on her own. Tiara continued to fall over again and again and again. The Artist frowned, displeased, then let a wave of calm wash over her. “Again.”

This time, the Artist began to unwind Tiara. _I’m falling apart, aren’t I?_ Tiara thought. She wasn’t. The band where the ankle of the shoe would have been was twisted into a head. The top and bottom of the wire frame was twisted into legs and feet. The unwinded heel was bent into a tail.

This felt _right_.

The Artist was satisfied. She called over a friend. “I made a dinosaur! It was a shoe sculpture once, but it got crushed. What should I name him?”

_Him_

_“_ Tyler.”

“Tyler is a nice name.”


	15. Rainy

Rainy days

Rainy weeks

Rainy months

Turn to rainy years

When was that day 

When all the sunlight

Disappeared

Tap tap tap

Outside my window

Tap tap tap

Outside my door

Tap tap tap

Inside my head

Tap tap tap

‘Till I can’t take it no more

Tap tap tap

Where did the sun go?

Tap tap tap

Where is my starlight?

Tap tap tap

Can’t see a thing

Tap tap tap

As I wander through the night

Life without rainy days

Mean there is no life at all

But what would happen

When rain slips you up and you

Fall

And you fall

And you fall and fall and fall

And you fall

Tap tap tap

All I feel is rain

Tap tap tap

Inside my heart

Tap tap tap

Hollow and heavy

Tap tap tap

Tearing me apart

Tap tap tap

Why do I feel this way?

Tap tap tap

Why can’t I change back?

Tap tap tap

To when life was simple

Tap tap tap

To when I could really laugh

Life without rainy days

Mean there is no life at all

But what would happen

When rain slips you up and you

Fall

And you fall

And you fall and fall and fall

And you fall


	16. Back to OC Land

Title: Back to OC Land

TW: swearing, lazy writer

Desc: *shrugs*

Word Count: idk and I don’t give a shit

A/N: I’m half awake and this is a shitpost

-

“Excuse me.”

The officer gazed down at the girl in front of him. She dragged a ragged gray backpack behind her, looking at him with half open brown eyes. Her words slurred together, not of drunkenness, but a lack of sleep.

“Which line do I take to get to OC Land?”

“I’m sorry where?”

“OC Land? Original Character Land? I’ve got some assholes to meet.”

“Ma’am, do you need a place to stay? I can take you to the homele-”

She snapped into action, suddenly wide-awake. “Did I ask where the homeless shelter was? I’m trying to get to fucking OC Land!”

and then she flew straight into the sun because screw writing


	17. the little reminders of you

What color are they?

The stars

The scars

The little reminders of you

That I’ve kept buried deep inside

That I’ve locked away

Where no one can see them

I loved you

Over and over and over and over again

But I knew that I couldn’t

I tried to stop it

The river

The ocean

The flow

The current

Of emotion

But I couldn’t

It was overwhelming,

Suffocating even,

To those on the banks

But to those caught in the current

To those stuck at the bottom

Of that deep dark ocean

Of that deep dark _endless_ well


End file.
